


Enough.

by laura_sommeils



Category: The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:47:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laura_sommeils/pseuds/laura_sommeils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you have is not friendship and is not love, it’s an almost that hurts and heals you both. It’s a could’ve been that lingers when you look at each other, when you tease Nico together, when you share smiles over something only you are able to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistake you might come across, english isn't my first language! (If you find a mistake, pleace tell me so I can fix it ^^) Also, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fanfic! :)

When he arrives, when Jason finally comes back home, his eyes search yours and, when they find each other, when both of your paths intercept, you can’t help but know that something is terribly wrong. Your attention lands on his right hand, in the way it’s holding one that isn’t yours, and the understanding of it falls on you like an unexpected gift that you’re not sure you want to open.

You smile and welcome them, and if a part of you wants to hug him the way Percy is clinging to Annabeth, you don’t let it show. It’s all right, you think, he is safe. He is safe and here. It is ok, even if he isn’t looking at you, way too focused on kaleidoscope eyes and a  _charming_  voice. It’s fine because he is alive and, right now, that’s the only thing that matters.

You were expecting this, after all, Venus told you so.

                                                  

* * *

 

You don’t want to admit that there’s a hollow space in your heart, right where your friendship, the silent and patient understanding of each other, used to be. You don’t need to give him that power, power over you, over the choices you’ll take and the decisions you’ll make.  Because he doesn’t deserve it, he threw it all away, exchanged it for an orange t-shirt and a fleeting try at romance. Gave you his back when you needed the support, the warmth, when your hands were bloodied and the tears wouldn’t stop falling like rivers around your cheeks.  

You’re nothing to each other now, but strangers that know your deepest secrets and fears.

And now he looks at you, he fixates his eyes on you across the campfire and he seems to be imploring, asking for, what, absolution? Forgiveness?

You don’t have any, he’s taken and taken and now you’re a dried land that is finally starting to bloom again.  

He has found his freedom, and now he regrets that he has no part in yours.

                                             

* * *

 

“I’m sorry”, he says one day, months and months after that final battle, after the campfire and the silence and the fear. He says “I’m sorry” and your body shivers and you think “Don’t, please, don’t, not now not like this.”

And you just look him in the eye, you’re not angry and you’re not resentful, but you’re tired. Tired of people that swore they’ll stay and then don’t, done with looking at the marked map that showed all the places you promised you’d go to visit together.

– I appreciate it, Jason, but it changes nothing, we can’t go back to how we used to be.-You say, he looks defeated and, a little part of you, the one that worried over him, the one that shared years of mutual respect and fondness, makes you blurt out- But we could try again, this time has to be different, better.-

He says “I know”, he declares “It will”.

                                                 

* * *

 

What you have is not friendship and is not love, it’s an  _almost_  that hurts and heals you both. It’s a  _could’ve been_  that lingers when you look at each other, when you tease Nico together, when you share smiles over something only you are able to understand.

What you are is not what you were  _supposed_ to be, is just the mere shadow of it. You can’t go back, but you can move forward, you can try again. If you want to, if you need to.

You can create a better foundation, one that doesn’t wobble because of unexpressed feelings and charged silence.  One that  _stays_.

                                         

* * *

 

And you do, over time, you create it. Together.

This time both of you use words, glances and trust.

This time you don’t withhold what was said to you. You don’t hide your fears. And neither does he.

This time it isn’t perfect but is damn near. It is smiles across the breakfast table, holding hands while walking to the coffee shop, you falling asleep on his lap.

It’s not what you were supposed to be and is not the mere of shadow of it, but is enough.

It is  _enough._


End file.
